Celebration (24 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Celebration
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Kristine watched the old woman's eyes fill with tears as her shoulders started to shake. “Are you saying you found three of my great-great-uncles and one aunt? How?”
“It was an exhausting job and it took us four years. Yes, Mrs. Posy, that's what we're saying. That's what I meant when I said I didn't have the letters with me.”
“Let me show you something.” The regal giant lifted her bare foot to reveal a scar in the shape of a cross. “Our families have done this, it seems like forever. After those infamous days, others did the same thing, I'm told. My clan did the cross. Others did the X and some did the circle with the line through it or a smaller circle inside the larger circle. The stories told to us down through the years were that all vowed to find one another. Our resources were so limited, it was impossible. Tell me, what is the next step?”
“More letters, more phone calls. For you, right now, Mrs. Posy, a new washing machine and a new refrigerator, college educations for your grandchildren, plots of land. As soon as we can, Jackson and I are going to arrange a meeting with everyone we can find. I'd like to have it here in Richmond or even at my home in Leesburg. Whichever place is the easiest to get to. Jackson is going to handle that end of it. When we get home, we'll get the files out, and I'll call you and send you the names of the people we found who had crosses on the bottoms of their feet. I don't know if that will give you any comfort or not. Right now, it's all that we have. Our job isn't done yet.”
“I need to know why, so I can tell my children and my grandchildren,” Mima said.
“Because it was wrong. Because you have the right to know where your family rests. Because I can't sleep at night knowing these things.”
“Then my family will accept.”
Kristine blinked. It had never occurred to her that the tall, regal woman wouldn't accept what she was offering. “There is one other thing. Mrs. Brown told us you require cataract surgery. With your permission, we could arrange it for you.”
“You would do that for me?”
“In a heartbeat,” Kristine said. “Shall I make arrangements?”
“Yes. Yes, I accept.”
“Do you have a family Bible?” Jackson asked.
“Yes, young man, I do. Why do you ask?”
“Because I need to copy down everything that's written in the front of it. With your permission, of course.”
“Come inside then. Would you like some lemonade?”
“Yes, I would, Mrs. Posy,” Kristine said.
“Tell me about your family, Mrs. Summers. You already seem to know about mine.”
Kristine talked then as though Mima Posy was her oldest and dearest friend. She talked about her drinking problem, about Logan and his family, Woodie, and finally her children and grandchildren. “Aside from giving birth to my children, Mrs. Posy, working on this project is the single most rewarding thing I've ever done in my life. It's like Logan no longer matters. He's just someone I used to know. I'm slowly earning my children's respect and love. It's all going to come out right in the end. Now, tell me, what color would you like for your refrigerator and washer?”
“Just white. I like things to look clean and fresh. White is pure if you know what I mean.”
“I do know. Is there anything else you want to ask me?”
“Are you really going to send all my grandchildren to college?”
“Every last one of them. Graduate school, too, if they want to go.”
“That's a barrelful of money right there,” Mrs. Posy said in awe.
“Right now the barrel is full. I expect at some point it might run out. If that happens, I'll find a way to fill it. My children will carry on when I can't do it anymore. Just the other day I was thinking about life, nothing in particular, and I realized that each of us is put on this earth for a reason. For a long time I thought my reason was to be Logan Kelly's wife. I still more or less think that because only through what happened am I able to do this. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, ma'am, it does make sense. My husband is never going to believe this. Things like this just don't happen. I'm grateful to you, Mrs. Summers. If I seemed standoffish a while ago, it was because my sight isn't good and I didn't know what you were all about.”
“I'm sorry about so many things, too. I wish you didn't have that scar on your foot.”
Mima leaned across the table. “You shush now. I carry the scar proudly, as do all my children and my grandchildren. We chose to make the mark on our feet. Sad as it may sound, it is our tradition. Those dark days of our ancestors are gone. The scars remind us to never allow it to happen again.”
Jack gulped his lemonade in two long swigs. It was Kristine's signal to get ready to leave.
“We'll be in touch, Mrs. Posy. Thank you for talking with us.”
She turned to Jack. “We might need measurements for the washer and refrigerator.”
“Standard size is acceptable. I have plenty of room.”
“Will tomorrow be okay for the delivery on the appliances?” Kristine asked.
“Tomorrow will be fine.”
“Then we'll say good-bye. But first, I brought something for you from my farm. I'll be back in a minute.” When Kristine returned with a second pup, she handed it to the old lady and cupped her hands in her own. “She's a pretty little thing, all gold and black at the moment. Her color will turn slowly, and her name is Honey. There's enough food for a few months. Her papers are up-to-date. She's had all her shots and is in perfect health. She will just love you to death. I hope . . . you like animals, don't you?”
“More than I like some people, Mrs. Summers. She feels so soft and warm. How big will she get?”
“Her top weight will be about five pounds. She's what we call a Teacup Yorkie. I breed them, as I told you earlier. She's my personal gift to you. If for any reason you can't keep her, call me, and I'll come and get her.”
“She seems to like me. She likes to be held, doesn't she?”
“Yes, ma'am, being held is her favorite thing. She has a special little blanket and fuzzy toy. She sleeps with them.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Summers. I admire your perseverance because you have prevailed. Thank you for stopping by. And thank you for this wonderful present.”
In the car, Jackson turned to Kristine. “She didn't warm up to us the way Lela Mae did.”
“No, she didn't. That's okay, Jack. She has every right in the world to be suspicious of us. The proof will be when things start to happen. She was a little more open in the end when we gave her the dog. Perhaps her sight has something to do with it. All I know is that little dog put a smile on her face. I don't know why I brought the two of them. First I was only going to bring one. Then I said, no, take two. I'm so glad I did. When will we run out of money, Jack? I'm going to start worrying about that.”
“Then stop. All those kids aren't going to be going to college at the same time. Some are probably finished by now. The money is going to grow and earn interest. Woodie invested it wisely. But, to answer your question, not for a very long time. We have it covered.”
“I'm starting to feel real good about all of this. Four long years we worked on this. We're finally making it happen. I want to thank you for coming into my life, Jack. If you hadn't come down my road that day, none of this would be happening. You will work on some kind of meeting or party or something, won't you?”
“Count on it, Kristine.”
Kristine nodded. “Right now we need to find an appliance store, then I want to go home.”
“Yon got it.”
 
 
She roll-called these last years as she sipped at her coffee. If she had it all to do over again, she knew she would do the exact same things. She'd put her personal life on hold these last four years. While she had regrets, she knew in her heart she would do that again, too. With the exception of Cala's and Mike's weddings, she'd rarely taken a day off, and when she did, she spent the night poring over the papers that were now in neat piles so she wouldn't get behind.
With the holidays a few short weeks away, she had to make a plan, stack the files and folders, and devise a concrete course of action for the new year.
And then there was her birthday that also loomed on the horizon. She was going to reach the half century mark a few days after the new year. Just the thought of turning fifty was mind-boggling. More than half her life was over and as far as she could tell the only thing she had done of any importance was giving birth to three children, children she loved with all her heart.
They were all happy and settled and no longer needed her, if they had ever needed her at all. Cala was happily married to Pete and lived in a small white house in town. They were also half owners of the business and they were proud parents to two little girls: Emily and Ellie.
The picture of the two little tykes tussling with Gracie and Slick on the front lawn brought a smile to Kristine's tired face.
This year, Christmas was going to be an event. Mike was coming home with his new wife and baby and Tyler managed to wrangle leave and had sent word he would arrive Christmas Eve with the stern admonition, “Don't do anything till I get there.” Kristine smiled again, but the smile left her face when her gaze traveled to the picture of Woodie. Would he come for the holidays? She crossed her fingers, her eyes burning. God, how she missed him. A lump started to form in her throat when she recalled the last time she'd seen him and the bitter words he'd flung at her.
Kristine shivered even though her back was to the fireplace. It had been a warm, sunny day without a cloud in the sky. She'd been holding Gracie and Slick because she needed something to do with her hands. Until the moment Woodie stepped around the car she had been certain he wouldn't leave....
“Woodie, wait. Please don't leave like this. I'm sure we can work something out. Why can't you understand? I have to do this. I have to make it right. If I don't, my whole family's life was and still is a lie.”
“Kristine, I can handle all of that. I applaud you for what you want to do. What I cannot accept is your broken promise to file for a divorce. I want to marry you. I want us to live together. I offered to help with this mission because I think two heads are better than one, but I wanted us to do it as man and wife. I can't live like this. I
won
'
t
live like this.”
“Woodie, please. I'll do it. I'll go into town tomorrow and get things under way. I promise.”
Woodie shook his head. “No, Kristine, that won't work. You have to do it because it's what you want to do, not what I want. I guess I can't understand why you don't want to do it. The fact that you don't tells me Logan is still in your thoughts and your heart. Three's a crowd, Kristine.”
“No, it's not like that. You're right and you're wrong. I swear on my children. I'll do it tomorrow. Please, Woodie, don't leave.” She was so close to him she could smell his aftershave. She wanted to reach out, but the dogs were snuggled in both hands against her chest. Slick growled deep in his throat while Gracie whimpered. Tears trickled down Kristine's cheeks.
Woodie kissed her, the sweetest kiss she'd ever gotten in her life. “If you ever need me, Kristine, leave word at the bank.”
“Aren't you going to write or call?”
“No.”
“Woodie, please. You can't just walk away. Damn you, that's what Logan did,” she screamed.
“I'm not Logan, Kristine. I told you like it is, right up front. From day one,” Woodie said as he settled himself behind the wheel. He reached out to tweak both little dogs' whiskers. Slick snapped at his fingers. Gracie continued to whimper against Kristine's chest.
“Where are you going? Can't you at least tell me that?”
“I don't know. I'm going to do that pin in the map thing. I'm going to get myself a man's dog, and it will be him and me or her and me. I need a friend right now. Someone who will understand me and love unconditionally. I wanted that person to be you but sometimes . . . It's not important. Good-bye, Kristine.”
“Damn you to hell, Aaron Dunwoodie!” Kristine screamed at the top of her lungs. “You are so like Logan. You're birds of a feather. Two peas in a pod,” she hiccuped as she sat down on the steps leading to the front porch.
Kristine cuddled the little dogs. “How can he do this to me? How? He's just like Logan. No, he's worse. What he's done is hateful and ugly. He said it all right to my face. I told him I'd do it. Did he care? No, he did not. His mind was made up. Oh, God, he's gone. He's really gone.”
Kristine ran into the house and up the steps. In her bedroom she flung herself on the bed, hard-driving sobs rocking her body. When the antique grandfather clock in the living room chimed the noon hour, she tottered into the bathroom to bathe her swollen eyes. She stared at her reflection. Woodie was right about everything, and she'd let him go off with her screams ringing in his ears. That's how he would remember her, a screaming shrew who had accused him of being like her husband. Tears filled her eyes again as she soaked a washcloth under the cold-water stream. “I'm so sorry, Woodie, so very sorry. What am I going to do without you?”
No bolt of lightning signaling a flash of impending insight struck the room.
“So go, see if I give a good rat's ass,” Kristine snarled, mouthing her husband's favorite expression. “Who needs you? I'm doing just fine.”
Well, if you're doing just fine, then why have you written a
kazillion
letters you didn't bother to mail and why did you write the last one inviting him for Christmas?
a niggling voice queried.

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